


States of Matter

by Grandoverlord



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AsaNoya - Freeform, College AU, M/M, Roommates, Super fluffy guys, my heart to oblivious asahi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2906030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grandoverlord/pseuds/Grandoverlord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things come in four states of matter. Solid, liquid, gas, and college student. Or, an unfortunately timed assignment plays matchmaker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	States of Matter

Matter came in four states. Solid, liquid, gas, and college student-- and he was pretty sure that while a person could be part solid and part liquid, he was definitely all college student. Being tired wasn’t just something that he felt off and on any more-- over the last couple of months it had become an integral part of his identity. His ‘wild’ look just wouldn’t be the same these days without the pair of dark crescents hanging underneath his eyes, testifying to his state of exhaustion. And thanks to sports practice, his muscles were stuck somewhere between liquid and solid, too. Every part of him wanted to roll back the stress and roll on to his bed.  
  
His homework was a biological wonder. It had somehow managed to grow eyes, and what’s more, learned to shoot daggers with them. Wrapped in a somewhat stained, warm blanket, the student regarded it coldly from his perch on the couch.

As the cold set in, so did winter break. Or at least, it should have. Instead, his photography teacher had to assign a _project_. She couldn’t just have given an assignment he could procrastinate on until the last day of break, like he was planning to do with most of the homework he’d been given; It had to be a _project_. Those things took forever. Worse than that, they took effort.  
  
Time and energy- the two things that he lacked. Well, that and patience. And a well paying job. And a boyfriend. But you know, whatever.  
  
Upon _returning_ to his dorm, the sophomore had decided that his best course of action would be to ignore it for a few days and revisit it. He’d glanced at the paper earlier, seen the word ‘project’ and stopped reading after seeing just how long the requirements section was. Despite his efforts to take his mind off the bloody thing-- which should have been easy considering how much practice he had with that.

his mindless first person shooter wasn’t doing the trick for him. His skin ran with pestilential responsibility. There was no way he could contort his body to be comfortable, not like this.   
  
_Damn_ it.  
  
He tossed the controller to the side. There was a soft thump that assured him it had landed safely, on either the couch or one of the various piles of stuff around the dorm. His roommate was surprisingly lax about that kind of stuff- not that he had seen him. Apparently the guy worked graveyard shift at the local movie theatre, and took all his classes early in the morning.  
  
Technically, Nishinoya had seen him tons of times. Sort of. He could make out the vaguely bunched shape of him under his comforter. Since Nishinoya made it a rule not to get up before noon, the two’s schedules just never seemed to coincide. His friends thought it was laughable, that he was living with someone without ever having seen their face, let alone talk to them. All he knew was that they were ridiculously tall, judging by the size of the body under the blanket.  
  
He briefly wondered where the guy was now, since it was almost five o’clock. Normally he’d be still curled up and snoring softly, but no such luck. Nishinoya couldn’t bring himself to care. To be honest, he was having trouble paying attention to anything with this sucktastic project eating him up.  
  
“If I can’t see you, you can’t see me, right?” He muttered, before shrugging off his blanket and instantly regretting the loss of heat. He was lucky enough to have scored a room with a window, but that meant that during winter the room was a total heat leech. Groaning, he pulled it back around his shoulders and stood.  
  
Surely the picture that he painted was ridiculous; all five foot two of him silhouetted against the dying winter light, dragging a blanket around on his shoulders like a cape. He felt like he was dressing up as some sort of royalty, dragging an elaborate cloak behind him. Using one hand to cinch it shut, he made a stately procession over to the crumpled paper. Its very much real, biologically unlikely eyes were boring holes in him.

Nishinoya made a face that struck him as very Kageyama like and pointed a regal finger at it.  
  
“I declare that you, dastardly photography project, are hereby illegal. ‘Tis treason to assign homework over break.” Being able to look down on something (for once) was actually pretty cool. He was pretty cool.

  
At that moment, he heard a noise behind him. It was something halfway between a cough and a choking noise.  
  
Noya whipped around to face the intruder, body springing naturally into a fighting position he’d seen in a Bruce Lee movie. Upon actually seeing the guy, his eyes got even wider. He was absolutely enormous. Not just his body, but he was muscled too. _Cut._ Nishinoya had confidence in his athletic abilities but when confronted with a giant who most definitely was not a fellow student --how could he be with that kind of build, not to mention the hair—he was totalling the odds and it wasn’t looking good.  
  
Belatedly, he realized that he was still holding on to the blanket. He let it fall around his ankles and stepped out from it warily, afraid to move too quickly.  
  
“I don’t have anything worth stealing!” He found himself announcing. Could he escape through the window? He was on the top floor of the dorms so that probably wouldn’t go well. Maybe one of his neighbors would hear him and come rushing in. Unlikely.   
  
“I don’t have anything but my roommate might! His shit’s over there!” He said, gesturing pointedly to the dresser on the other side of the room. That’s right- while the burglar was distracted, he could sprint out and get campus police.  
  
He had the whole thing timed down to the second. The guy would walk over, he’d wait until just the right moment, and then—  
  
“Wait, no, you’ve got the wrong idea,” the robber managed to get out. Flustered red splotches spread across his cheeks and he was even stuttering a little, which was rather unusual for someone trying to take your stuff. Generally. Nishinoya then noticed things that he hadn’t before, like the fact that he had a backpack and was wearing the school uniform. “I’m your roommate.”  
  
“Oh.” At least he hadn’t gone silent, with shock or embarrassment. He could feel the color rising to his cheeks to match and he kicked the blanket with his foot surreptitiously. He wasn’t sure which one was worse, having someone try to rob you, or meeting your roommate pretending to be king of campus. “That, uh, right.”  
  
“You’re Nishinoya, right?” The other one probed, albeit shyly. Nishinoya nodded dumbly and tried to think of a way to make this whole ordeal just a little bit less absolutely mortifying. Now he was looking for escapes of a different kind. Maybe he could just pretend this never happened later. It wasn’t like it was going to come up in conversation. After all, his ever absent roommate was, well, absent.  
  
“I’m Azumane, but most people just call me by my first name. Asahi. I mean, my first name’s Asahi. If you want.”  
  
Jesus, his roommate was the most awkward person he’d ever met. It was up to him to dig himself out of this conversational grave, wasn’t it? Putting on his best people person smile, Nishinoya stepped forward and offered his hand. The other stared for a second, hesitation printed plainly across his face. Despite that, his grip was firm and the other found himself marveling over the size of it.  
  
“Nishinoya Yuu, though I go by Noya. Second year student, Biology major. Are you a thug, Asahi? You kinda look like one.”  
  
“Asahi Azumane, though I go by-- I already told you that, sorry-- third year anthropology major. And I’m- I’m really not a thug. I swear.” He was hulking, huge, gigantic, pretty much ripped, and  a total coward.  
  
Nishinoya moved back and stuck his hands in his pockets, regarding the other. His dark hair had been scraped back into what passed for a bun. There were more stray hairs coming out of it than there were Starbucks in New York. His face was broad and flat, thick eyebrows and round nose leading into square jaw. Nishinoya couldn’t look too closely without coming off as a creeper, but it seemed his eyes were almost the same brown as his hair.   
  
Although he wasn’t conventional by any standards, he had to admit that his roommate was physically attractive. Long hair did things to him. Either way though, his personality pretty much ruined the deal. Not like he’d fool around with someone he had to live with, anyway.  
  
“Say, Asahi,” he said, getting used to the way the name sat on his tongue. Mystery roommate no more. “Why are you here?”  
  
The question seemed to catch Asahi off guard. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away.. He didn’t see the eyebrow that Noya raised at this behavior, but that was probably for the best. “I live here too, you know.”  
  
This time he did see it as Nishinoya rolled his eyes and collapsed dramatically back onto his bed. “I know,” exasperation dripped from his voice, despite having just accused him of breaking in. “But you’re never like, here when I am. You’re always-“ he gestured towards Asahi’s neatly made bed. “-always there.”  
  
“Well, yeah, I’m sleeping, but it’s not like I’m never here. I got the night off from my job- wait, don’t tell me you didn’t recognize me at all?”  
  
Noya shrugged and shook his head like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Hey man, I was serious when I thought you were trying to steal my shit.”  
  
Asahi stared blankly for a moment before letting out a laugh. It was louder than Nishinoya would have imagined it, but that might have been the reason he liked it. It started off quietly, like he was asking for permission, but after a second or two he started laughing in earnest. “Oh my god,” he managed to get out, sounding short on air. “Your actual reaction to a burglar was ‘I don’t have anything worth,” he gasped. “taking?”  
  
“Yeah, so what? It’s true.” He tried not to be offended at the taller man’s sense of humor. He was an easy going guy, and it was true- he had sounded pretty stupid. “It was a heat of the moment thing, dude. What would you say if you saw someone you didn’t know burst into your room?”  
  
“Hi, probably. Or I’d hide in the bathroom.”  
  
Now it was Nishinoya’s turn to chuckle. “Keeping it honest, I like it. Well, if you’re ever conscious enough, I’d be down to be friends with you, I think.”  
  
Asahi seemed taken aback by his roommate’s straightforwardness. He sputtered something that sounded vaguely protesting, but Noya waved it off. “I call it like I see it. Hey, you don’t happen to take photography I, do you?” Mutely, his roommate shook his head. Noya could see an apology coming, so he jumped into his next sentence before it slipped out.  
  
“Damn. I’ve got a goddamn project to do over break and I was hoping I could coerce you into doing it for me.”  
  
“That’s not-“  
  
“Chill, chill. I’m joking. Mostly. You got homework too, I’m guessing?”  
  
The two of them fell into a natural pattern of comfortable conversation, punctuated regularly with Asahi’s apologies. People had told Nishinoya that sometimes it was like he took up all the air in the room when he talked, because once he started on a story he sort of just kept talking in one sentence until it was over. He did most of the talking, but it wasn’t totally one-sided.

  
As they settled into it though, Asahi began offering more and telling stories of his own. After a while he was the one who suggested that they play something in the name of getting to know each other through shooting zombies’ brains out.  
  
“After all,” Noya said. “I don’t want to be caught sharing a room with someone without having played a videogame with him. Bros gotta bond.”  
  
“What could you possibly learn about me through videogames?” Asahi asked, the question coming out more like an exasperated sigh.   
  
Nishinoya flashed a quick smile and started the game. “I’ll find out whether or not you’d die in a zombie apocalypse or not, for one thing. Now TAKE THAT YOU SONS OF-“  
  
As it turned out, Asahi wouldn’t be the one who’d die in that situation. In fact, the opposite was true. While he’d sat calmly behind a barricade and sniped, Noya had rushed into the fray and died every time within two minutes of respawning. After about an hour of being absolutely dominated at his favorite game, he starting going on about how he didn’t even really like this game that much anyway and Asahi was cheating.  
  
The assignment was forgotten.  
\---------------------------------------  
\- - The thing about absent roommates was that they were absent a lot. Like, a lot. Nishinoya had to actually seek the third year out if he was going to talk to him. While he didn’t mind it, the guy was notorious for lurking in the corners of libraries, or other secluded spots that he would never be at of his own free will. Luckily, he was a memorable guy. When Noya described Asahi, there was always that same dawning look of recognition as the person pointed to the place he was hiding now.  
  
And the thing about libraries was that they were supposed to be quiet. Absent roommates were hard to deal with, but silence was a non-negotiable ‘no’.  
  
“How am I supposed to have a conversation with you if you’re always holing up in places where we’re not allowed to talk?” Nishinoya prodded, sprawled out over two seats. Luckily for him, the school had skipped out on the nice chairs, so these didn’t have armrests. Cheap seating was pretty advantageous for chilling. “I mean, it’s like you don’t want my constant presence. Or charisma.”  
  
“You could just not talk, you know. Unlike someone, I’ve got exams coming up at the end of break.” Asahi frowned, looking around pointedly for something. His brow furrowed and he let out an annoyed huff of air. “Have you seen my pencil?”  
  
This had happened three times in the last two hours. “It’s in your hair.” Asahi reached back to his bun and blindly grabbed for it, murmuring a thank you as he did so.  
  
“You know, you should wear your hair down sometime. Might save your writing utensils from disappearing every couple of minutes..”  
  
“You should do your homework sometime, too. And stop bothering your upperclassman.” Despite his protests, Nishinoya knew that he wasn’t annoying his roommate too much, judging by the soft smile on his face as he said it. Plus, he was way nicer than Asahi’s other friends. Daichi, who he’d seen before but hadn’t really talked to, was terrible to him. Made fun of his glass heart, which was admittedly funny but the poor guy was defenseless when it came to that kind of stuff.  
  
Nishinoya pursed his lips and rolled to the side, where his bag laid slung over a chair.

Messenger bags made life easier- he never had to put it on the floor, unlike Asahi’s clunky camping style bag that looked like it contained a  filing cabinet at all times. His, on the other hand, was refreshingly empty. “Unlike you, though, I don’t need to study. I get by on my natural smarts,” he remarked.

  
Pausing in his note taking, Asahi gave him a look that challenged his statement. “Because we all know how well your English class is going.”  
  
Nishinoya snorted.

“Yeah, but I’m never going to have to use that. Languages other than Japanese are useless for me.” He continued rummaging through his bag. For something so empty, it had an unnecessary number of pockets- and hey, was that an apple core? What the hell?  
  
“Languages are easy, though. It’s math that’s the hard stuff, y’know? And you can’t really study for it. Ugh.” Asahi buried his head in his hands, the brown strands escaping his bun peeking between his fingers. “I’m going to fail this course, and they’re not gonna let me graduate without it.” He hissed a curse between his teeth as he regarded the paper like it might bite.  
  
Blinking, Nishinoya ceased his search and sat up so he could see Asahi’s paper. Although it was upside down, some of the figures looked vaguely familiar. “Can I see?” He asked, stretching one hand toward it. Asahi gave a nod of permission, but didn’t watch as Noya slid it towards his side of the desk. Instead, he let his forehead fall forwards onto the table like that would help the headache starting to bloom in sharp, thorny bursts of white.  
  
There were some problems that he didn’t have the foggiest on how to solve, but he knew enough about maths to be able to pull off the first couple. “Hand me your pencil, will ya?”  
  
Starting, Asahi snatched the paper back. “I’m not letting you do my math homework, Nishinoya!”  
  
His roommate pouted, jutting his lip out dramatically. “But math is cool. Well, it's vaguely interesting at least. And besides, it’s not like you’re going to get the right answer anyway. Might as well let me do it-- you’ll get a better grade.”  
  
“I’m halfway done already.” He ignored some of Noya’s comments, as was necessary to do when talking to him. Already, he was learning what should and shouldn’t be done when conversing with Nishinoya. If he addressed everything the shorter of them said, they’d be there all night.  
  
“You might want to check number three again, then,” Nishinoya snickered. Asahi felt himself color as he realized that he’d dropped a negative sign halfway through, messing up the entire project. He made a mental note to correct it later. There was no way that he’d give Nishinoya the satisfaction of seeing him wallowing in his mistake.  
  
“Don’t you have something better to do than someone else’s math homework?” He didn’t mind Nishinoya’s constant presence; he actually appreciated the company sometimes because it kept him from driving his pencil through his eye in boredom. Studying was hardly fascinating stuff, since he only really needed It in the classes that he despised. It was a necessary evil, unfortunately

 “Right!” Noya exclaimed, bouncing back into his seat. Asahi looked around, panicked in case the librarians had heard him. It wasn’t like the second year was particularly quiet or anything. Takeda, the head librarian, was a nice guy, but he had his limits. Shouting was one of them. Nishinoya fixed him with an odd look. “You’re staring off into the distance, Asahi. What ‘cha thinking about?”

 “I’m wondering how someone so small can possibly make as much noise as you do.”

“And here I was thinking that you were a nice guy.” Nishinoya brought a hand over his heart in mock injury. Sticking his tongue out was definitely not on the approved college-interactions list. Still, the temptation was there.   
  
“You’d be right. Just maybe not when it comes to you.” His eyebrows drove downwards into a contemplative ‘v’. “Um. That was actually rude.“ he gave Noya a defeated look. “Sorry.”  
  
“It’s all good.  Anyway, I do have homework. Stupid project.”  
  
Asahi put down his pencil and raised his eyebrows. This wasn’t the first he’d heard about the infamous project- Nishinoya complained about it at every possible opportunity. He’d stopped listening to his roommate bemoan his circumstances after around the third or fourth pity fest he’d thrown himself. “What’s the project on?”  
  
The younger boy grimaced. “Photography. I had to take a fine arts elective.”  
  
“It can’t be that bad if it’s just photography. My fine arts was a speech arts class.” Nishinoya almost choked.  
  
“You’re kidding.”  
  
“I almost failed, but convinced my teacher to let me do the final speech as a recording.” Asahi shrugged, though Nishinoya could tell from his face that it wasn’t a pleasant memory for him. The third year was such a shy guy in normal life that he couldn’t imagine that public speaking was very easy for him. “Anyway, what’s the assignment? Still lifes, pictures of flowers?”  
  
“Ha, no idea.” He said it in the resigned tone of accepted demise that was familiar to Asahi even after only two weeks. It was generally how Noya handled schoolwork.  
  
“So when’s it due?” He asked, quietly dreading the answer.  
  
“End of break,” Nishinoya said, fishing the balled up paper out of his pocket. Asahi squawked in reply.  
  
“Nishinoya!”  
  
The addressed person shrugged and spread it out in front of him, flattening it with one hand while holding a curling corner down with the other. “That’s why I’m reading it now instead of the day before it’s due. Get with the program, Asahi.”  
  
Asahi said something that sounded vaguely like an admonition, but he was too polite to say it any louder.  
  
There was a sudden moment of silence-- moments that were few and far between with Nishinoya-- and Asahi looked up from his problem to see the younger scanning the paper with a deepening crease between his eyes.

 Nishinoya always went for such direct eye contact that he barely looked at him half the time to avoid it. But there were moments like this where he could see the fine lines of his face, the harsh diagonals of his eyebrows and almost calligraphic strokes of his cheekbones. Nobody had the right to have cheekbones like that, not to mention a gravity defying hair.

Compared to himself, with his weird hairline and plain features, Nishinoya was as interesting to look at as an exotic bird. It wasn’t like he was super brightly colored, but somehow the boy’s plumage still stuck out. He was more of a watcher than a performer, himself. His place was in the audience, but Nishinoya’s eyes were made to shine.  
  
He did this with most people- being quiet gave him the opportunity to see people more clearly. While everyone else was bothering themselves with pointless, bantering jabber, he saw people. His roommate was an open book to most people. They saw his bright energy and enthusiasm that he practically broadcasted. There was that, Asahi knew. But he knew that like with all people, there was other stuff too. And that was what interested him in Nishinoya. He could see just enough to be interested, but not enough to be satisfied.  
  
Somehow, he felt like he’d gotten a taste of a delicious dish and had the rest taken away before he could have a second bite. But there was no reason for him to feel like that about Nishinoya at all. After all, they’d only known each other for a short time, and there was a part at the start of every friendship where the other person was unavoidably more fascinating than they otherwise would be. They were in the exploratory phase of their friendship, where both parties clambered to get to know the other better- though some in more subtle ways than others. Asahi wished he got the chance to observe Nishinoya more, but with all the talking he wasn’t sure he could pull it off.  
  
Carding his hands through his hair, Noya squeezed his eyes shut. Asahi noticed that it was barely displaced thanks to the gallons of hair gel he was sure his roommate doused it with every morning. “I can’t believe this,” he said, though he didn’t mention what ‘this’ was. It was an obvious cue for Asahi to play ‘guess what’. Talking could be so mechanical.  
  
“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice concerned despite his thoughts. If only he could avoid being so touchy all the time, he had the feeling that all of this would be easier.  
  
“The assignment is so vague I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing. Like what the hell?” He offered the scrunched paper to Asahi, frustration glinting in his eyes. After a second he abandoned all intentions of managing to straighten the paper out and chose to just read it as it was instead. The thing’d been sitting on the floor for a week and been in his bag where he was sure it had gotten even worse after that. No point in wasting his energy on that. “D’ya see what I mean?” Nishinoya clamored.  
  
“It’s actually pretty specific. It just says to do a collection of photos of-“ his voice caught, “beautiful people?" He shrugged and handed what was left of the paper back.  
“Yeah, I mean I can read but like,” Nishinoya threw the paper back into his bag and threw his arms forward on the table, managing to sprawl out so that he took up twice as much room as Asahi. With an air that was a mixture of surrender and annoyance, he slumped forward so that his entire upper body was on the table. He didn’t seem to care that his cheek was pressed against the polished wood as he spoke. “’Cause beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What I consider beautiful might not be what everyone else considers beautiful. Or what you consider beautiful might not be what I consider beautiful.” Asahi’s thoughts flicked back to his previous line of thoughts. To be fair, he’d said that Nishinoya was interesting to look at. Not beautiful. His watching him was purely in the interest of science.  
  
“Asahi?” He started out of his thoughts, finding Nishinoya looking at him curiously. If he did that again this conversation his friend was probably going to send him to the school nurse.  
  
“Sorry. I was thinking about what you said, and you’re right. It’s not that hard of an assignment though. Just pick someone on campus and get them to model for you. There are a lot of attractive girls around here.” He wanted an out of the conversation, wished that they could have gone back to the easy bantering back and forth they’d had just a few minutes ago. This was straying into dangerous areas for him. Especially since they were roommates. “It wouldn’t be hard is all I’m saying.”  
  
“Hm, yeah, girl’s aren’t really my thing. I mean, don’t get me wrong some of them are like goddesses or whatever and their attention is a gift to be bestowed upon undeserving males, but I’ve never really dated one.”  
  
“Nsihinoya Yuu, are you saying that you’ve never dated?” He couldn’t conceal the shock in his voice. Judging by the confidence with which Nishinoya handled himself, he’d thought that he was the kind of guy who had been with someone before, seriously. Did that mean that he’d never been kissed? That he’d never- his thought train was cut off by Noya’s sharp laugh, alarmingly loud in the quiet of the library.  
  
“Not exactly, amigo. I said I’ve never dated a girl.”  
  
Asahi felt his stomach drop to his feet. “So are you-?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Oh.” Neither of them said anything for a few heavy seconds.  
  
“Is that a problem?” Nishinoya asked, an edge in his voice. He got the feeling that it had been before, or he wouldn’t have asked.  
  
“No, I mean, uh, me too.”  
  
“You?” He sounded incredulous. “I would never have…huh.”  
  
Asahi didn’t like the way he said that, but said nothing himself. He preferred to go back to studying. It was the only way he was going to pass that exam. And besides, the math made way more sense than anything that was making his stomach do flips. Maybe he’d had something bad for lunch, he thought. Of course, he had that meal twice a week, but maybe the broccoli had been undercooked?  
  
There was a different tone to the silence that fell between them now, like it was colored with their mutual discovery. It shouldn’t have changed anything in their relationship, not really. Somehow Asahi felt more at ease now with Nishinoya’s presence, even though part of him was far more agitated than when he sat down. Their cards were on the table. He’d just gotten his second taste at who Nishinoya was. Interesting.  
  
Although silence was not Nishinoya’s area of expertise, even he was able to sense something had fallen between them. Instead of driving them apart, however, they were somehow closer. He just knew that if he talked, he’d spoil the mood. Whatever that was.  
\- - --------------------------------------------------  
  
-  
-  
  
Winter break meant that they both had way more free time than they would normally. Noya whittled his away trying fruitlessly to get past a level that Asahi could have beat in his sleep, which his roommate studied voraciously for his upcoming exams that Noya could have aced with one hand tied behind his back. The mood was oddly domestic between them. Since that day they had reached some sort of agreement that they were most definitely friends. No more of that probing question marked nonsense- he was now at the same level as all of Noya’s other friends now.  
  
It wasn’t like he spent time exclusively with Asahi. He had his teammates, and Tanaka, his best friend. Over the weekend he hit the plaza in town with a group that he’d known since high school, and hadn’t come back until Monday with a killer hangover. Despite that, a larger section of his schedule than he would admit to was spent seeking the taller boy out.  
  
It wasn’t always easy to find him. He knew that Asahi was reclusive by nature and needed time to recharge from socialization sometimes, but he figured that he wasn’t really doing enough socializing to need to recharge from it. Sure, sometimes Noya knew to just give him space to do his own thing, but that was so boring. Surely he was more entertaining than any of the textbooks Asahi was acquainting himself with. If not, he’d have to seriously reconsider his socialization skills. If he couldn’t beat out a math textbook, what sub basement level did that mean he was on?  
  
He saw Asahi watching him sometimes. It felt like the other boy was assessing him sometimes, and Nishinoya always had to fight not to return the eye contact and call him out on it. There was something addictive in being seen like that, because he knew that when Asahi was looking at him, he was actually looking. Not just glancing, but it felt like he was searching for something. When he had first noticed it, he’d spent the entire day walking on air. That kind of attention was what he thrived on.  
  
Letting on, of course, was out of the question. He was a blunt guy, but the way Asahi looked at him seemed too personal for him to trivialize by calling it up as a joke. And if he didn’t do that, it’d just get weird. Talking to someone seriously about the fact that you kind of like them watching you and just telling them that you’re aware of it? Nah, Nishinoya was happy to live a life without dying of awkwardness, thank you. Asahi might spontaneously combust if he were to confront him on it anyway.  
  
Being blunt was one thing, but being honest was an entirely different entity. With himself, he was unerringly honest. He knew exactly what he wanted and how he was going to get it, understood his feelings and tried not to bury anything because life was a learning experience. Experimenting was just part of the scientific process, and so he made sure that he went out and learned about himself whenever he could.  
  
Being honest, he thought that Asahi was beautiful. Enough so to be the subject of his collection/ project from hell itself. The problem was that he doubted that his roommate was aware of that fact, or honest enough with himself to realize that Nishinoya had been flirting with him for the last three weeks. Heavily so in the latest, since he found out he actually had a chance. Before it had just been for fun. Now he was playing for keeps.  
  
Holding the camera out in front of him, he regarded its unnervingly empty memory, flicking through pictures of people he had caught on campus. One girl with flaming red hair tied up into a loose bun walking by, smiling quietly at a text. Another of a pair of people talking, one of them making loud hand gestures and the other raising a skeptical eyebrow. A couple holding just their pinkies together as they walked.  
  
They were all decent pictures, to be sure. The people were attractive, even pretty. The feeling just wasn’t…quite right. They were quiet statements, the first one. That was the closest to what he wanted, but it wasn’t there. He knew that the only thing that would be ‘there’ was Asahi. He wanted to take a thousand pictures of him in a way that he’d never wanted to photograph anyone before. After all, he hated photography class. But if it meant that he could show other people just how beautiful this boy was, then it’d be worth the effort.  
  
It wasn’t that Asahi was hot. He was, but it wasn’t that. It was the way that he played with lose strands of his hair or the way It fanned out when he was sleeping, in the quiet lull of his hooded eyes as he struggled to stay awake. The way he moved, like a startled deer and a steady river meeting in the middle to make him walk calmly but like he was trying to make the least possible amount of noise. Asahi made up for his size by taking up virtually no conversational or mental space, and yet he was all that Nishinoya wanted in a frame.  
  
Falling quickly wasn’t something that Nishinoya did. He knew how to gauge his emotions after a lifetime of being open about them. It had started as a completely aesthetic attraction, him noticing the way that Asahi’s eyes never seemed to catch light but rather capture it and hold it deep within the recesses of his downturned eyes. He was starting to put some weight behind it though, and he’d certainly dated people after knowing them for a lot shorter than he had known Asahi. In fact, he’d done a lot more than dated them.  
  
He didn’t want to rush things with the boy, who had gotten shyness down to an art.  
  
Unfortunately, deadlines were killing his love life. The project was due next Monday, meaning he had- looking at the calendar dangling haphazardly from one push pin on the wall- three days left to cram those photos in. He supposed that he could just turn in what he had and get a grade on that, but damn if he was going to let himself chicken out like that. He wouldn’t be happy with any of the pictures until he got the perfect shot of his roommate, and he knew it.  
  
The only question was how he would go about taking those photos. Asahi’s moments of grace were in the moments he felt unobserved. Too many times had Noya padded silently into the library and around to what he was coming to think of as their table, just to pause and watch the way that the sunlight lit him from behind. He then made a clamor to alert the man of his presence and walked in like he hadn’t just been admiring him. Asahi wasn’t the only one doing the watching.  
  
On the other hand, taking pictures of someone when they weren’t aware of it was creepy as hell, and there was no way that he’d turn in pictures that Asahi hadn’t consented to. That was crossing over into stalker territory, and he was so not feeling that. It would be a violation of their friendship if Asahi found out. Nishinoya cradled his head in his hands and massaged his temples like that would actually help him think. Strategy was really not his thing.  
  
The only solution that he could think of that wouldn’t land him in the dumpster if Asahi found out was to take the pictures, and then to show them to him before he turned them in. Maybe get some back up ones in case Asahi said no. Then they wouldn’t be stalker pics, just…casual ones? Candids? They would show what Asahi looked like to him, though he was sure that they couldn’t fit all his 3D glory into a single flat picture, he was sure as hell going to try.  
  
He has three days. He gets three pictures that day, and two the next. It is infuriatingly hard to find Asahi alone, despite his inclination towards isolation. How was it that he suddenly became ridiculously social less than a week before his project was due. He could swear that he must’ve pissed off the homework god at some point. Maybe he hadn’t made enough sacrifices for it. Like time. And what was left of his soul.  
  
It’s on the last day, unsurprisingly, that he finds his solace. In a last ditch effort to master the equations set before him, Asahi was tucked away in his nook in the library. He was alone, and he was absolutely gorgeous.  
  
Getting the right angle wasn’t hard; zoom was a wonderful invention and the natural lighting coming through the window was warm and soft. Asahi’s face wouldn’t do well in harsh lighting, he thought. It would emphasize his larger forehead and erase all the rounded edges of his face. He wasn’t a man of angles, or planes; there were no steeply sloping lines or sharp corners that jutted out. Asahi was more organic than that, however that might sound. Parts of him were solid steady tree trunks growing resolutely from the ground, while others reminded Nishinoya of creeping tendrils of ivy, hesitantly probing and uncurling.  
  
Maybe Asahi would make an artist out of him yet.  
  
Balanced on the top of a stack of books, he was so tuned in to getting just the right shot, that he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him. He didn’t turn around until Takeda’s hand was on his shoulder and he was asking what he was doing in a concerned voice. Noya understood that he probably made a confusing picture, perched precariously on top of Tolstoy glaring at a camera that refused to capture Asahi right.  
  
At least he was quiet. Nishinoya offered a smile and a ‘nothing’ in a hushed tone before returning to his task. Asahi was looking around, hearing the footsteps. Noya wondered if he thought it was him coming, if his face always lit up like that when he came. He snapped a shot for himself. This one wouldn’t go in the collection.  
  
While Takeda was quiet, his coworker was less so. Ukai, possibly the loudest librarian in the entire industry, stormed over with his usual fervor and gave Nishinoya what was probably supposed to be a playful nudge on the shoulder at best, and a direct attempt to get him off the books at the worst. Either way, he tumbled to the floor in a mess of quiet swearing and attempted damage control. Shield the camera, he thought.  
  
“Didn’t anybody tell ‘ya books are for reading? Get a chair if you need to stand on something,” he said, in something that didn’t even qualify as a whisper. It was decibels above a whisper, and louder than Nishinoya’s normal talking voice. Takeda sent Ukai a concerned glance that warned him to be quiet, but the damage was done.  
  
Eyebrows furrowed, Asahi’s eyes tracked down the source of the noise and his eye’s caught Nishinoya’s in a rare act of voluntary eye contact. Nishinoya could only watch as with painful transparency, Asahi put the pieces together of what he had been doing, though his expression said that he wasn’t believing what he was seeing. Well, he was going to tell him later today anyway. He’d just hoped to do it more gracefully.  
  
Takeda managed to shoo Ukai off with a look of apology shot Noya’s way. He had no idea what was going on, but had the feeling that he had interrupted something. The student waved off his apology and sheepishly made his way out to greet Asahi.  
  
This was one of those now or never moments that he always saw in movies, when the camera would zoom in and the main character would say that there was no going back. He supposed it was true, but he always preferred to think of it as a threshold moment. The door was open and he could just barely see what was inside, but could just as easily close it as go into the room. If he stepped across the threshold he’d know, and there was no way to go back to not knowing. Even so, the idea that there was no going back was a weird one. There was no going back on anything you did, no matter how significant.  
  
This train of thought served to settle his stomach a little. This wasn’t exactly confessing, but it was close enough to it that it set him on edge.  
  
“Nishinoya?” Asahi asked as his roommate took his customary seat across from him. If he wanted an out, this was the time. He wouldn’t get any other chance to close the door once he started talking. “What…what were you doing?”  
  
Nishinoya turned his head to the side and made no effort to hide the camera around his neck. “What do you think? I was taking pictures.”  
  
The other man had already known that. Any idiot could have guessed as much. “For your project?” He asked, his sentence carefully worded for the highest ambiguity. He felt like he was walking on ice. Each step had to be planned out and then executed with precision, and even then there was still a chance of crashing through. Luckily, in every place where Nishinoya was harsh, Asahi was subtle. He was used to conversational dancing around a subject.  
  
“The very same.”  
  
“What of?” Asahi asked, his voice very small. Nishinoya cast him an annoyed glance, like ‘really? You haven’t figured this out already?’ He had, kind of. He just needed to hear the other boy say it, just to make sure. He didn’t want to assume.  
  
He said it firmly, unquestionably--“You.”  
  
Nishinoya took stock of the situation. There were two (2) college students. Three (3) textbooks. One (1) camera. One (1) abandoned workbook. That was as far as quantitative got him. Qualitative: One of the college students was quickly losing color, an unusual paleness in his figures. His hands formed into fists and his nails dug into his palms. Despite his increasing pallor, said college student seemed in good health, though at a loss for words. Indicated shock, surprise. Other college student became redder, particularly in the facial area. This could have indicated high temperatures, embarrassment, or sexual arousal. Judging by the context, conclusion would be embarrassment.  
  
Bloody hell, was Asahi just going to sit there?  
  
“Me?” Asahi was one step away from pinching himself so that he’d wake up. Sure he was attracted to Nishinoya, but the idea that the other found him- what was the word the project paper had used? Beautiful- was laughable. He wasn’t ugly, but he was no one to write home about on a good day.  
  
“Yes, you.”  
  
He went quiet again. This was happening. Actually, really happening. Not a joke or a prank- Nishinoya’s tone was too matter of fact for that. There was always a hint of laughter in his voice when he was joking, but it was absent now. His words sat like a nonconforming wall, just before him. There was no bypassing them or dancing around them as was his first instinct. He had the feeling that Noya had picked his words as carefully as he was choosing his, just for this effect.  
  
“So, uh, you’re going to turn those in?” He was quieter than normal, making an effort to seem friendly. Make small talk like someone he was getting a crush on hadn’t just implied that they reciprocated. Play It cool.  
  
Asahi should have known that cool was Nishinoya’s thing.  
  
“I was planning on showing you the pictures first, you know. See which ones you like the most and picking those for the collection. And of course, getting your consent because it’d be weird otherwise.”  
  
Like it wasn’t already weird to be taking pictures of your roommate without them knowing? At some point Asahi felt like he had surpassed weird and crossed over into surreal. Nishinoya began to explain his logic, but Asahi wasn’t listening. He was staring into the distance again, trying to make out the titles of the books on the far bookshelf, a meter or two behind the shorter of the pair. This could be okay, right? People could admit that they thought that another person was pretty without feeling anything for them. Did it all the time, in fact. The assignment hadn’t told him to take pictures of someone hot or anything. Just…beautiful.  
  
“Can I see them?” He asked in a sudden burst of confidence. It died as soon as it sprouted however, and if he had been pale before the color than now rushed to his face more than made up for it.  
  
Nishinoya brightened and bounced over, already having the best pictures loaded onto the camera screen. Since the strap was still around his neck, he was forced to stand closer than Asahi would have preferred to show them to him. How was he supposed to focus on the pictures while Nishinoya’s side was pressed to his and they were at the same eye level now, and how hadn’t he noticed how nice his roommate smelled before?  
  
The first picture caught his eye, however, pulling him away from his silent reverie. It was of him in the same place he was now, his hair drifting down around his shoulders. He’d taken it down because no one was around and sometimes the pressure of having his hair up gave him headaches. His expression was absent and about as least studious as could possibly be as he rested his head on one hand, scribbling absently with the other. His hair fell in a curtain on one side, and was this really him?  
  
He recognized the crook of his nose and the way that his mouth came slightly open when he was thinking, and the clothes were certainly his. But the line of his jaw in this was much more pronounced and those weren’t really his eyes that looked like that, were they?  
  
All of the pictures were like that, and Asahi watched in silent rapture as Nishinoya scrolled through them wordlessly, one by one. Not all of them were as good as the first, but they all captured a different creature than the one that looked back at him in the mirror every morning. “You’re amazing,” he murmured after the last one flashed across the screen and he was met with black. Nishinoya shifted away and Asahi found himself missing his closeness sharply.  
  
The younger one sat in the chair next to Asahi that had always been no man’s land before. He always sat across, kept that table barrier between them. Now there was nothing, and suddenly it felt a lot more personal even though all they were doing was sitting next to each other.  
  
“I think my model worked with me a little bit, to be honest. They were the one who put in all the work here,” Noya said.  
  
Asahi shook his head. “I didn’t even know,” he remarked, looking at anything other than his roommate. For some reason he felt even less suited to Nishinoya’s spotlight gaze than he did normally. It made him feel like he was on stage all alone, forgetting his lines under the bright glare of the follow spot. The intensity alone was enough to unnerve him regularly, and it would be worse in a situation like this.  
  
“Makes it even better then. You practically did my homework for me without even trying.”  
  
“I don’t understand why you chose me, though. I’m not exactly the best fit for the prompt that you were given. I mean, you did what you could with your material but surely it would have been easier to photograph someone more...” He wasn’t sure what he was going to say. More beautiful? More confident? Trailing off left his message hanging unstated in the air.  
  
Nishinoya rolled his eyes, bringing some sort of relief to the situation. If he was going to be childish, at least he was consistent about it. “Well, I certainly didn’t pick you for your ability to pick up cues, apparently.” He took Asahi’s hands where they sat on the table. He didn’t interweave their fingers like he wanted to, but instead rested his own hands on them and brought them in front of the two of them. He held them lightly, even though they were much heavier than his own. “I picked you because I think that you’re beautiful. And if you’re going to deny it after seeing those photos, you have some serious issues with dealing with reality.”  
  
“I just- I’m not. You made me look-“  
  
“Please. You’ve heard me complain about photography before- you know that I’m legitimately terrible at it normally. All I did was draw out what you’ve already got. You may not be entirely conventional, but don’t pretend you’ve never looked in the mirror and thought that you look good. Beauty Is about being interesting to the eye- it’s about calling attention to yourself even when you’re actively trying not to, and that, Asahi Azumane, is why you’re beautiful.” He finished slightly out of breath, and with an expectant air waited for his roommates response. When it came, it was hesitant.  
  
“I can’t really understand what it is you see in me, honestly. But-“ he continued before Nishinoya could jump in again. “I appreciate that you see it. And, and- for the record, I think you’re kind of beautiful too. If that’s not weird.”  
  
Something like an internal sunbeam lit Nishinoya from the inside out. He dropped one of Asahi’s hands and placed his own now free one on Asahi’s jaw. He smiled that wide, purely Nishinoya smile that signaled that something bad was probably about to happen to someone, and pulled Asahi’s face so that it was level with his.  
  
“You’re weird,” he said, his thumb moving up to stroke over his cheek. He could feel stubble under his hand, and even more than that he could feel his own pulse speeding up. NIshinoya had stepped through that door and the room waited before him. All that had to happen was for Asahi to get over that wall and they could, maybe-  
  
For a moment their hearts beat the same anxious beat, and Asahi knew that he wanted this. Possibly more than he should, considering the fact that they had to live together if this didn’t go well. For just a second, he didn’t care about the consequences, and that second made all the difference.  
  
Hands unclenching, he hesitantly took Nishinoya’s face between them. It wasn’t like he’d never done this before. He’d kissed and been kissed loads of times between high school and now. That didn’t stop the rising anticipation in his gut as he thought about it. If he did this, he could run his hands over those calligraphy cheekbones and get to know this bright bird in entirely new ways.  
  
And maybe, for once, new wasn’t bad.  
  
They crashed together in one moment, waves breaking on rocks and a golden sand shore.  
\- - ----------------------------  
  
-  
-  
  
Matter exists in four states. Solid (Asahi is organic, like a tree), liquid (Asahi’s eyes are liquid and light seeking), gas (Asahi, gasping for air when they break apart), and college student (Asahi, Asahi, Asahi in everything that he was). The thing about states of matter is that an object or organism is one or the other. And the thing about ever absent roommates is that they’re never around. And the thing about Asahi was that he broke those rules, because he was above all things, a really good boyfriend. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is the longest single chapter fic I think I've posted, and I'm almost definitely leaving it as a oneshot. But please, in any case leave reviews about what you thought and kudos if you liked it! I love hearing from you guys and it keeps me writing, you know? In any case, this is my contribution to the wonder that is asanoya.


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